


Under Lock And Key

by AI07



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Beard Braiding, Bofur Is A Persistent Bugger, Bofur's Hat - Freeform, Brother Feels, Drama, Dwarf Courting In More Than Ten Steps, Family Feels, Hair Braiding, Humour Here And There, Iglishmêk, Khuzdul, M/M, Music, Nori Doesn't Care, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Romance, Slow Build, Undercover Flirting, or so he says
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AI07/pseuds/AI07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like any treasure in his keep, a thief guards his heart just as carefully. He will protect it at all costs against the hands of enemies and the sticky fingers of strangers who try to get too close to him.</p><p>So why does this strange hat-wearing Dwarf insist on wanting to break in, and why in Mahal's name won't he take 'no' for an answer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Lock And Key

**Author's Note:**

> After writing Chapter 4 of my story "Matchmaker", my love for Bofur/Nori grew. Hence, this story came to be. Khuzdûl and Iglishmêk are written in Italics. Enjoy! :)

_Well, ain't we an intimidatin' bunch of warriors, all ready for a bleedin' suicide mission._

Suffice to say, Nori was not exactly impressed with the selection of Dwarves that would keep him company for goodness knows how long on this dangerous quest to kill a dragon so fearsome that it made Dori look like a kitten in comparison.

Leaning back against the wall, the star-shaped-haired Dwarf looked at the others, appraising them with a critical eye: there was Dwalin, a big, burly and beefy brute with whom Ori seemed rather fascinated, and the bane of Nori's life. Many a time they had run into each other, no matter how many times the thief tried to evade him. When he was not glaring at Nori and trying his best not to flush whenever he met Ori's gaze, the bald warrior Dwarf was speaking to his older brother, Balin. An intelligent yet pessimistic character was Balin, although Dori seemed rather taken with him.

“Now there's a decent Dwarf who can appreciate a spot of culture,” whispered the eldest Ri with a sigh. “At least I am guaranteed a companion with whom I can engage in intelligent conversation on this blasted quest. Pity there's only one of him.”

 _I fink you'll be 'appy with just one Balin, bruvver,_ thought Nori snidely.

His eyes fell on a Dwarf with flame-coloured hair. _Glóin_ , he thought with delight. The star-shaped-haired Dwarf never missed the opportunity to create some mischief whenever dear Glóin was around. How fun it was to push his buttons by stealing one of the banker's coin purses, which were always full of gold coins, or purloining two or more of his silver hair-beads. And what dreadful temper-tantrums he would have! At least with Glóin on this journey, Nori was assured of getting some entertainment.

He was glad that Óin was coming, too. The healer was a feisty old thing with a witty mouth, made worse by his partial deafness, but compared to Dwalin, Balin, Dori, Glóin and even Thorin Oakenshield, he was easygoing and sharper than a boar spear. Plus, Nori rather enjoyed making bets with him, especially placing bets on Glóin and how fast he would react when an item of his was stolen.

_Funny 'ow he almost always wins, the smarmy old codger._

At first Nori could not believe that Fíli and Kíli were also coming along. _Struth, Dori 'ad a hard time tryin' to persuade Ori t'stay home, not that it worked or anyfink._ But the thief could understand the reason why they wanted to come with. After all, what better way to have an adventure and reclaim a Dwarf kingdom with your good ol' uncle! And if the aforementioned uncle was okay with it, then far be it from the star-shaped-haired Dwarf to comment out loud.

_Commentin' **inwardly** , on the other hand …_

The two princes were talking to Thorin, and from where the thief was standing, he could clearly see the excitement shining in their eyes. Try as they might, they could not contain their gleeful grins nor could they stand still. No, they were all ready to go at the drop of a hat.

_All in all, what a fierce group of Dwarves we are! All ruddy ten of us._

_Hang on a tick. Only bloomin' **ten** of us? Ain't there anymore?_

“'Ere, 'ang about, Balin,” said Nori, moving away from the wall towards the white-haired Dwarf. “'Ow many of us are there, then, eh? Goin' on this quest, I mean.”

“There should be thirteen of us – fourteen, if we recruit the burglar Gandalf told us about,” replied Balin. “Three more Dwarves are on their way to this debriefing.”

“Cheers,” thanked Nori, avoiding both Dori's glare and hiss (“So disrespectful you are, speakin' like that to such a dignified Dwarf like Mister Balin!”). “Do we know 'em?”

“Miners by trade, they go by the name of Broadbeam.”

“Broadbeam? Never 'eard of 'em.”

“Slightly more respectable than the kind of people you encounter in _your_ line of work,” muttered Dwalin.

“Pity we don't see them kind of respectable people in _your_ line of work, either,” retorted Nori, only to earn himself a none-too-discreet kick from his older brother. “Ouch! Watch it, Dori!”

Dwalin rolled his eyes, and Balin continued: “Anyway, they should be arrivin' soon. Thorin does not like to be kept waitin'.”

At that precise moment, a knock came at the door.

“Enter!” said Thorin.

The door opened slowly.

_What in Mahal's name –?_

The first thing that Nori's eyes fell on was the most peculiar-looking hat ( _is that_ _ **even**_ _a hat?! Can you even_ _ **call**_ _it a hat?!_ ) he had ever seen in his life. Two brown flaps, like floppy dog ears, only it was lined with grey leather pelt, stuck out of the rest of the brown material that covered the owner's head.

_Stone me, and 'ere I thought Dori made Ori wear the chuffin' most wonkiest hats!_

His eyes travelled downwards. Underneath that brown behemoth was a pair of twinkling eyes the colour of blue topaz, and a twinkling smile. Chestnut-brown braids that curled upwards framed his face, and a moustache equal in colour also extended upwards as a result of its owner's beaming grin. An earring hung from his left ear ( _hmmm, not worth takin', then – it's all bone_ ), and a scarf of red, blue and iridescent orange adorned his neck. His clothing was earthy in colour, but nothing about his form screamed wealth or anything remotely valuable that was begging to be pilfered.

_Guess I'll 'ave to stick to Glóin._

But how surprised was he when the Dwarf opened his mouth.

“Bofur, at yer service,” he said with a bow.

There was something quite … _musical_ about this Dwarf's voice. Nothing sing-song or childish about it. As a matter of fact, it was resonant and clear, smooth and altogether pleasant to the ear, like the notes on a flute –

_Hang about, Nori, let's not get poetic now. After all, you don't know this bloke, so don't you get carried away by this character and his timbre, alrigh'?_

Suddenly, a huge Dwarf stepped forward from behind Bofur ( _Bofur, righ'? I think that's what 'e said_ ). His orange-red beard was braided into a large, rope-like plait that hung over his chubby front. His clothing seemed to be much poorer in quality.

“And Bombur, at yer service,” he squeaked ( _ **squeaked!**_ _A big 'un like 'im squeakin' like a mouse!_ ).

Then, another Dwarf stepped forward, and what a piece of work he was! Wild black hair framed a dazed face, and an equally-wild blackish beard streaked with white hung from it. But what really caught Nori's attention was the blade of an Orc axe jutting out of the Dwarf's forehead.

_Stone me dead, 'e must 'ave 'ad a nasty knock!_

With a nudge from Bombur, the Dwarf snapped to attention and bowed as he said gruffly, “ _Bifur, ai-mênu duzhuk_."

_Khuzdûl? 'E's speakin' in Khuzdûl?_

"I presume you are the one who cannot speak in the common tongue,” said Thorin, appraising the Dwarf known as Bifur.

It was Bofur who spoke.

“Oh aye, yer Majesty, my cousin's been talkin' like tha' fer a good many years since Azanulbizar, but he gets by, bless him,” he said cheerfully. Bifur nodded in affirmation. “He was once a miner, but toy-makin' suits him better, I do declare. He's been teachin' me the trade.”

Nori stared. _Toy-makers! What in bleedin' goodness is Thorin doin', fannyin' about wiv toy-makers and signin' them onto this mission?!_

“'Course, there's life in this lad yet!” continued Bofur, grinning. “He's keen to do his bit fer his King!”

“I see,” murmured Thorin. He looked at Bombur. “And you are the one who is a trained engineer?”

Bombur nodded, his skin flushing.

"Aye, he's a good 'un, yer Majesty,” chipped in Bofur once more. “Always had a brain fer that sort o' thing, when it's not thinkin' about food. He loves his food, Mahal bless him twice over. Never one to waste a thing, is our Bombur. My brother's been eatin' solids long 'fore he was teethin'!”

_Cor blimey, does 'e never shut up?!_

Thorin smiled kindly at him. “Well, it is a pleasure to have you three join this Company, and I must extend my thanks. After all, this journey will be fraught with peril, and no doubt it shall be difficult.”

Bofur beamed. “We're all for it, yer Majesty. Let tha' pithy-some dragon do his worst.”

_Optimistic little tit, ain't he?_

“Excellent. Now, introduce yourselves to your Companions before we get on with the debriefing.”

The three Dwarves, led by the hat-wearing Bofur, approached the others, and to Nori's eyes, it seemed that his fellow companions immediately warmed up to this trio. Balin, Dori and Glóin enthusiastically greeted big Bombur, asking about his engineering and cuisine knowledge ( _lawks, looks like a bright-red apple when 'e blushes like that!)._ Fíli, Kíli and Ori all stared in awe at the axe-blade in Bifur's forehead, whilst Dwalin acknowledged his fellow fighter from Azanulbizar with respect. And how pleased Óin looked when the wild-haired Dwarf signed in Iglishmêk after the healer asked him to speak up – and even Bifur smiled when Óin signed back.

But everyone, the thief noticed, was charmed by Bofur. His broad smile, his enthusiastic greetings, the richness of his voice and laughter, and his obviously good nature won them all over in the matter of seconds. Everyone, including Dwalin and Balin, was cracking a smile after greeting him.

But Nori was not impressed.

_Nice guys like that, I don't give a toss. Too dull for my tastes. 'Specially ones wiv nothin' to their names._

He greeted Bifur and Bombur dismissively, and before he knew it, the hat-wearing Dwarf was standing before the thief. His smile was bedazzling, and the topaz-blue orbs were shining brightly, looking directly into the star-shaped-haired Dwarf's own fox-like eyes after looking him up and down. He held out a mitten-covered hand.

"Bofur, at yer service,” he trilled.

Nori stared at the hand, then looked up at the hat-wearing Dwarf. He frowned. “So I heard.”

Bofur's smile never faltered. “And may I ask yer name, sir?”

"Nori,” answered the thief, taking the other Dwarf's hand and giving it one firm shake. “At your service, too, I s'pose.”

“Oh, ye must be Dori and Ori's brother, then,” said Bofur. “That must be grand, to have two brothers. Mind ye, Bifur is like a second brother t'me –”

“I'm sure he is,” interrupted Nori, not at all keen to let this person ramble on. “But brothers can be bothersome.”

Dori glared at him when he heard that.

“To be sure! Bombur an' Bifur an' me, sometimes we drive each other up the wall, but at the end o' the day, we're family. From what I gathered from Dori, yer the middle brother, right? Middle-child syndrome is a terrible thing, and I would know, seein' as Bombur's younger an' Bifur's older than me. So I know where yer comin' from –”

_Middle-child syndrome? Is this Dwarf out of 'is BLOODY mind?! And he don't have no idea 'bout me! He don't **know** me, the little plonker! _

Luckily for him, Thorin intervened ( _thank you, Mahal!_ ).

“Now that we are all gathered, let us commence this meeting …”

The Dwarves gathered around him as he spoke. Nori escaped, fleeing to Ori's side. Bofur's brother and cousin had rejoined him, and the trio stood next to Dori.

_What a nettlesome piece of work 'e is! 'E better stay out of me way, otherwise I'll force-feed 'im 'is hat so 'e will shut up._

When the thief glanced in his direction, Bofur caught his gaze and smiled …

… and he winked at him.

Turning way, Nori felt his cheeks burn.

_The twonk **winked** at me! Ho ho, 'e better stay out of my way **now!** _

Unfortunately for the star-shaped-haired Dwarf, that was not going to happen any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Bifur, ai-mênu duzhuk - Bifur, at your service.
> 
> An alternative title for this story would be "How To Steal A Thief's Heart" (damn my cheesiness). Trust me to upload yet another story before exams start. Anyway, please let me know what you think of this so far - it's my first time concentrating on this pairing. And their accents ... flip my life. -_-;
> 
> Comments/kudos are welcome!
> 
> *~AI07~* :)


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